


All that Glitters is Wild

by Ladyhawk_lhflu



Category: Velvet Goldmine
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 01:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3433463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyhawk_lhflu/pseuds/Ladyhawk_lhflu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur meets up with Curt at a most unexpected time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All that Glitters is Wild

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 99/2000.

(Section I: The Requiem of Maxwell Demon)

Concentrating on the word processor in front of me, I try to make sense   
of why anyone would want to read an article about the migration of fish   
in the Hudson River. And why do I have to write it?

Oh well. I have a feeling Lou was pressured into stopping my big story,   
the one about Brian Slade, or as he's now known, Tommy Stone. I bet his   
woman, Shannon, had something to do with it. What a crock the whole   
thing is anyway. Nobody knows who Brian Slade really was, not even Brian   
Slade. I can see that by how he hides himself within that new identity   
of his. 

I'm so caught up in my musing that I don't hear the noises behind me. I   
nearly jump out of my chair as a hand touches my shoulder.

"Arthur, there's a phone call for you. At least I think it's for you. He   
just asked for Arthur at the Herald." Lou looks at me quizzically, as if   
expecting me to know exactly what's going on. 

"Who is it?"

"He said his name is Jack Fairy."

\--------------------------------------------------

I walk over to Lou's office in a daze. Jack Fairy. I never met Jack in   
my rounds with the Flaming Creatures. I'm only connected with one   
other person in the Glam set, but nobody knows that save him and I. What   
could Jack want with me?

I nods my thanks to Lou as he closes the door of his office behind him.   
I pick up the phone with a shaking hand.

"Hello?"

"Arthur?" A cultured voice sighs my name into my ear. 

"Yes, this is Arthur Stuart. What can I do for you, Mr. Fairy?"

That's obviously not what he needs to know, because he continues.   
"You're *the* Arthur? Curt's Arthur?"

Oh God. What's going on here? "I-I met Curt Wild, back--"

Jack interrupts me. I hear some muttering in the background. "You're the   
one he was with after the Death of Glitter concert."

"Y-yes."

"Darling, he's been asking for you. Something terrible has happened. Can   
you come?"

Shocked, I copy down the address Jack gives me. I hang up the phone and   
run out of Lou's office. I don't know what Curt wants with me, but I owe   
him. I owe him for a night of bliss and ten years worth of memories.

So I leave the office and head to Brooklyn.

\---------------------------------------------------

I stick the pin that Curt gave me on my jacket as I ride the subway. It's   
been in my pocket these last six months since he gave it   
to me. I hadn't wanted to throw it out, but I didn't have the nerve to   
wear it. Until now. I'm only now facing my past, and in a way, myself.

I get off the train and walk the three blocks to the address Jack gave   
me. As I mount the stairs, I see red hair flash in the window by the   
door. The door opens before I get to the top of the stairs.

"Arthur? Darling, come in. It's just dreadful. Poor Curt hurts so badly   
right now. I don't know what to do for him." Jack grabs my arm and   
guides me into an apartment just as a loud crash shakes the walls.

"FUCK! Why did you have to go and do this now, you asshole?!" Curt   
Wild's rough voice resounds through the living room. His back is to us,   
standing in front of what appears to be a broken mirror laying on the   
floor. "God, Brian. WHY? Just as I finally was getting over you, why?!"

Not wanting to disturb Curt, and have his wrath directed at me, I   
whisper to Jack. "What happened?"

Curt must hear me, because he turns around and replies. "The fucker   
killed himself. For real this time!"

\---------------------------------------------------

I was pretty shaken up at Brian Slade's faked death. Seeing it right in   
front of me, believing a legend had died, it was mind-boggling to a kid   
at seventeen.

I shouldn't be affect the same way now at twenty-seven. I'm a grown man,   
with few friends, and fewer people I still look up to. But the pain in   
Curt's eyes just kills the logic. I stumble and Jack guides me to a   
chair.

I catch my breath, then look up at the red-haired musician. "How, why?"

Jack pets my hair softly. "He shot himself in his apartment in   
Manhattan. Nobody's quite sure why, but Curt believe it has something to   
do with his manager, Shannon."

"That bitch tried to control him ten years ago! After that fake death   
stunt, she took him over! Made him into fucking Tommy Stone!" Curt paces   
the room and tries to light a cigarette. But his hands are trembling   
badly. He can't hold the lighter to it. So instead, he flops down on the   
couch.

I stare at Curt for awhile as he closes his eyes and lays his head back   
on the cushion. His bleached hair hangs in his eyes, his hand drums on   
the cushion beside him. His body is tense, like a panther waiting to   
strike. 

Suddenly, I *really* don't want to be here.

My voice trembles with fear as I speak. "I'm sorry about Mr. Slade's   
death, and your loss. But what do you want me--"

Curt open his eyes, locking them with mine. "What do you remember most   
about that time? When you were touring with the Flaming Creatures?"

I duck my head. The answer is simple. But how do I explain to him that   
he was all of my adolescent dreams come true?

I can't find my voice. But after a minute I hear a tapping sound and   
raise my head to see Curt leaning over the coffee table, looking at me   
intently. 

And he reads my mind.

"Yeah, me too. For a time I had a legend in the palm of my hand. But   
what do I remember most? A teenager with stars in his eyes. Weird, huh?"   
Curt smiles at me sadly. "You were a good kid. You still are, I guess,   
or you wouldn't be here."

I can't think of what to say, so I say the only thing that comes to   
mind. "Thanks."

Just then, the phone rings. Curt turns to pick it up. "Yeah. I guess.   
What? Fuck no!"

After a minute, he slams the phone down. "Fuck. Jack, that was Brian's   
attorney."

"What's wrong?" Jack kneels down by Curt's feet, probably trying to   
appear nonthreatening.

"Brian's will leaves everything to me, on one condition." Tears form in   
the rock star's eyes as he says this. "That fucking bitch!"

I walk over to the sofa, responding to the little boy in pain that I see   
in his eyes. I crouch down opposite Jack as I ask. "What?"

"That I take Shannon on as my manager! No fucking way will I let that   
vampire near me." Fumbling, Curt grabs for my hand. I gasp softly, but   
still, I gently wrap his fingers in mine. "I don't want his stuff! I   
don't even know why I wanted him! I didn't even fantasize about him."

What an odd thing to say. "Curt, what do you mean?"

The blond man looks me straight in the eye, clutching my fingers   
tightly. Both his grip and his words make me gasp. "I didn't see Brian   
Slade in my dreams these last ten years. I saw you, Arthur."

\---------------------------------------------------  
(Section II: Do You Wanna Hold Me?)

My pronouncement shocks him. For a second, I wonder why. I mean, he's   
always been in my head, ever since that night. But then I remember.   
Brian, that motherfucker who gave me hope, then dropped me flat. The kid   
thinks I'm still in love with Brian.

God, ok, I admit it. In a way I will always love Brian. He was good to   
me for a time. He was there when I needed someone desperately. But   
heart-singing, happily-ever-after in love? Fuck no. 

The only time I ever caught even a glimpse of that shit was on a   
rooftop, looking into the laughing young eyes of the man in front of me.   
I didn't know what it was until now. Now, when this one runs to me,   
barely knowing me or what had happened but still wanting to help.

The kid looks at me with those shocked eyes, as if I told him he just   
won the lottery. "But-but you loved Brian."

I shake my head gently. "I loved an illusion. I loved that he helped me.   
I loved the idea of being in love. And the core--yeah, I guess I loved   
that too, but I hardly ever saw it."

I release Arthur's hand and run mine through my hair. "God, he picked   
such a *perfect* time to kick off. It took me ten fucking years to rehab   
and find my music again. And to not try to reach for him, to try to find   
the real him. I mean, it seemed a worthless pursuit, but I couldn't   
stop. Shit, if I knew *you* were under my nose the whole goddamn time--"

Arthur stands up and starts pacing. Fuck, I'm scaring him. "But-but you   
hardly know me. I'm nothing compared to the two of--"

Angry at his self-perceptions, I get up and move to grab his shoulders.   
"You're real! You're more fucking alive than Brian ever was, probably   
more than I ever felt, even on the heroin. There's nothing covering you   
up. I loved that in you that night. The fact that you could open   
yourself to me. Not the physical part, man. I mean, that was great. But   
for one night, to hang out with a real person. . .Ah, hell."

Frustrated, not knowing how to explain it to him, I turn away. "That's   
why I gave you that pin in the bar. You looked like you were trapped   
behind something. I knew who you were the second I saw you. How could I   
forget the face of the boy who gave me my freedom?"

I blink, and my mind heads back to that time, six months ago.

\---------------------------------------------------

In fact, I figure out who he is the minute he calls me. His voice, it   
hadn't changed that much. But Reynolds' goons are breathing down my neck.  
I can't say yes to the kid. It would hurt me, and him, too much. I want   
to tell him to let the whole thing go, you're getting too close, they   
won't let you do it. But they're right in front of me. All I can do is   
snap at the kid.

I actually don't recognize him at the bar the first second. His voice   
might not have changed, but only when he said he was from the Herald   
and he actually smiles, do I see the boy from the rooftop. He has gotten   
darker somehow, my innocent freedom-giver. Strangely enough, it suits him.

Seeing him, in juxaposition to those yuppy girls who do nothing but   
exclaim over Tommy, and the sadness of the older ones inside the bar, I   
want to give him a piece of his youth. Something I don't know how to   
find anymore. But something in his eyes tell me he may be able to yet.

I want to tell him I remember. So I give him the pin, even after he tries   
to give it back to me.

Ah, the freedom was great, wasn't it?

\---------------------------------------------------

I turn around to face him, after finally saying what I needed to. The   
blush on Arthur's face is classic, like a remnant from that wonderful   
night. I start to feel light-headed with the memories rushing through my   
brain. 

On impulse, I reach up to touch him. He lets me run my thumb across his   
lips like I did that night. His eyes watch me the whole time. They stare   
right into my soul.

The touch of his eyes is painful and healing at the same time. I start   
to cry. For all that I have lost over the years. I lost Brian, to Shannon,   
and then to the strain from his lack of a real identity, I guess. I lost my  
family, to their abusive natures and their ignorance. I lost my self-respect,  
to the drugs and recklessness. And my dreams. Oh, how I miss looking on the   
world as something to be discovered, rather than endured. The tears roll   
down my face. I look down, to hide them, to shield my vulnerability.

But I don't get the cold stare I would have gotten from Brian, or the   
angry yelling my parents would have done. Instead, I feel a soft touch   
on my hair and hear an even softer voice. "Curt, I'm sorry."

For some reason, that makes me cry even harder. My knees begin to give   
out as the sobs wrack my body. I hear Jack whisper to Arthur, and feel   
their arms gently guide me back to the couch.

I want to at least thank them, but right now I can't do anything but   
cry. They don't try to stop me, but I feel a hand lightly rest on mine.   
Arthur's hand.

\---------------------------------------------------

Is it a minute, an hour, a year later? I raise my head and look into the   
face of my own angel sitting on the coffee table. "Thanks."

"It's all right, mate. I owe you." He smiles that gentle smile I've   
remembered all these years. I return a wobbly smile of my own.

"I'm sorry I pulled you into this fucking mess. But I don't have many   
friends right now. You're the only one I could think of, other than   
Jack." My hands are trembling again, but he grasps them firmly.

"If you need me here, Curt, then here is where I'll be. You don't even   
have to wish on a star for that to come true." 

After a minute of searching my face, Arthur seems to come to a decision.   
He gets up from the coffee table and sits down next to me. Cautiously, I   
guess giving me the chance to say no, he puts his arms around me.

I would be fucking crazy to reject this. So I lean into his chest.

And feel the magic begin again.

\------------------------------------------------  
(Section III: Somebody Called Me an Angel)

The man in my arms is such a contradiction. On the surface, rough, a   
rebel, with a disposition matching his name. But once you crack that   
shell of his, the pearl is revealed. Intelligence, compassion, a quick   
wit and a stunning smile. To see his real self focused on me again is a   
gift I don't know how to repay. So I settle for holding him, trying to   
ease some of his pain. 

I think he begins to drift off as I watch Jack Fairy settle into the   
armchair across from us. I try to keep from shifting and waking Curt. He   
must be exhausted from all the emotions that Brian's death has brought   
forth in him.

Jack watches us for a minute with a gentle smile, then speaks softly.   
"He wanted to call you earlier, darling. I never figured out why he   
didn't."

I blink, trying to take this in. "What?"

Jack leans back in his chair. "He has mentioned you before. After   
Brian's, or Tommy's, concert at Madison Square Garden about six months   
ago. He wanted to call you the morning after the concert. At that time I   
wondered what he wanted with a journalist. I thought he wanted to expose   
Brian. I can see now that I was wrong in my assumption."

Suddenly, Jack's eyes focus intently on me, not on my face, but on my   
shoulder. I look down to see the green pin I placed on my jacket. "He   
must think highly of you to give that up."

"I guess. He told me Brian gave it to him."

"Brian took it from me. I found it in a schoolyard when I was young. I   
have a feeling it meant more to Curt than it ever did to Brian." Jack   
motions to me as I try to remove it and hand it to him. "Don't, darling.   
It belongs to you now. I know you will respect it as much as Curt did."

I nod my agreement awkwardly.

Jack gets up from the chair. "Are you comfortable enough? Maybe you   
should rest your eyes as well. I know I called you from a busy day at   
work. And Curt's outbursts can tire even the strongest of people. Rest.   
I'll clean up the mess."

At his words, I realize how tired I am. So I do the one thing I regret   
not doing ten years ago. I fall asleep with Curt Wild in my arms.

\---------------------------------------------------

"Get the fuck outta my house, you bitch!" 

I startle awake as Curt's yell reaches my ear. I'm even more surprised   
to find Curt's arms wrapped around me protectively. "What's going on?"   
My voice is hoarse from sleep.

"Nothing that can't be fixed." I focus on Curt's face as he says this.   
His mouth is set in a stern line, but his eyes are gentle as they watch   
me.

They harden when they turn to the woman across the room. "Get out!"

Shannon doesn't appear at all flustered as she gazes back at us. "Curt,   
we need to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you. Leave." If looks could kill, Shannon   
would be dead as of this moment.

"Oh, I see. You have a new toy." She studies me for a minute. "You're   
that reporter that tried to cause a raucous at Tommy's last concert,   
aren't you? You poor boy, Curt. You might want to drop this one, he's   
out for blood."

"If my blood would help him in any way, Shannon, I'd gladly give it. I   
needed someone to talk to. He's been an angel to me. Better than you   
*ever* were."

Shannon sniffs, resigned I suppose, to not being able to pull Curt into   
her court. For now at least. "Well, when he tries to drain you dry and   
you need help, you know where to find me." She turns away as Jack opens   
the door for her.

"Fuck you, bitch." But the anger seems to have left Curt as he watches   
Shannon walk out the door. He turns and clutches me as he buries his   
head in my shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to wake to that, Arthur. But she   
threatened Jack to get him to let her in."

I smooth his hair into place gently. "It's ok, mate."

"You really are an angel, man. I have never felt safer than when I was   
with you. It's a scary thing, but I like it." Curt looks up at me with   
those gentle eyes once again. I get lost in them as they search my soul.

The next thing I know Curt's lips are sweetly molded to mine.

"Oh." I gasp slightly as he pulls away.

Curt takes this as a rejection and backs away slightly. "Fuck. I'm   
sorry. I didn't mean to jump on you like that."

"I-I'm not upset, Curt. You just surprised me." I lay my hands on his   
waist, wanting to touch him, but afraid of making him flee. And afraid   
of taking advantage of him by giving into the very thing I've wanted for   
the past decade. "I don't want to do anything you'll regret later."

Curt looks stunned at the courtesy. "Arthur, you're one of the few   
things I *don't* regret in my life. I-I want to get to know you. The   
person you've become." He appears to consider his own words, then turns   
his head away from me. "I almost screwed it up, didn't I? We should   
really talk instead of me trying to get in your pants the minute you   
walk back into my life. I'm lousy at all this shit."

I study the tenseness in his form. The way he body seems to be reaching   
for someone to hold it. He needs it, I want it. But how can I give him   
this? It's been ten years. . .

Then I remember the look his face as he taught me that night. He was   
so careful, so gentle. His eyes glowed as he wrenched every moan and   
gasp from me with his body. It was such a perfect experience. How can I   
not return the favor, when he seems to need the comfort it could bring   
him? 

I lay my fingers on his chin and move his face to look at mine. "Make a   
wish, Curt."

\---------------------------------------------------  
(Section IV: Tumbling Down Into You)

As I hold the hand of my angel, pulling him up from the couch, I wonder   
how tragedy has made me so lucky. I mean, Brian was supposedly the best   
thing I ever had, right? How the fuck did I fool myself all these years?

Arthur rises gracefully from the couch as Jack makes his retreat to his   
apartment upstairs. We head to my bedroom slowly. One look in his eyes   
tells me Arthur is lost in the same memories I am.

\---------------------------------------------------

I see him for the first time when I greet Mandy at the concert. Just a   
young boy, dressed as his idol, trying to get a glimpse of fame. He's   
nothing to me then, just a pretty face. Just an echo of his idol, an   
echo of the pain in my heart. Still, I can't help but stare at him   
for a minute.

I'm surprised to see him at the after-concert party. His face is so   
innocent, so open. It attracts me in a way I can't understand. For once,   
this isn't about Brian. This is about me. . .and the innocent wisdom I   
see in this kid's eyes. This time when I slip away, it's his attention I   
catch. Good.

It takes about fifteen minutes or so until he makes up his mind to join   
me on the roof. I can see his brain still doing the 'who, me?' scenario   
as he walks toward me.

"Come closer. Don't be frightened." The kid's eyes light up, from the   
drugs, from the view, from seeing me. I'm not sure, but I don't care.   
He's here, giving me the chance to explore this strange attraction I've   
found.

I don't know the first thing about making someone comfortable or breaking   
the ice. But somehow, I say and do the right things to make him smile.   
My heart races at the sight. 

A shooting star catches my eye. This wish is for him, mine has already   
come true. I have found someone that will let me be myself, if only for   
tonight. I don't know how I know. It's just there.

So I reach out my hand to him. His lips are soft, his eyes startled.   
Come on, kid, fly with me. My hands move on their own to caress him as   
he pulls his shirt off for me.

I have to teach him a lot that night. I don't believe the boy has been   
so much as kissed before. But that knowledge makes every gasp and moan   
from him that much more meaningful. *I* am doing this for him. *I* am   
giving him a part of myself, the part that was rejected by another. And   
he is so receptive to it, to me. 

After I give him all I can, I watch him sleep on the old mattress, more   
content than I have been in ages.

When dawn hits, I see him wake up out of the corner of my eye as I   
answer nature's call. His smile is brilliant. It beckons to me, makes me   
share his joy of life as it is right at this moment.

We share it in the early morning light, just laughing and talking.

\--------------------------------------------------

The joy is back. His eyes gleam with it right before his soft lips reach   
toward me in a gentle kiss.

I've never swooned in my life without the help of one drug or another.   
Until now. My knees give out, forcing me down onto the bed behind me. I   
pull him along with me and we collapse there, laughing.

"Did I teach you that?" I move my hand up to caress his face.

He nuzzles into my palm gently. "You taught me every good thing I know   
about this."

I tilt his head to meet my gaze. "Everything?"

My angel nods. "I've been with others throughout the years. Not many,   
but a few. None of them taught me anything useful, or made me want to go   
back for more. In fact, the experiences taught me what *not* to do."

My face must show the anger I have at the thought of anyone hurting this   
man in my arms. He lays his head on my chest and runs his hands down my   
sides and soothes me. I relax slowly, watching him as he watches me.

Then, slowly, carefully, we simultaneously reach for each other's   
clothing. Piece by piece, each of us is revealed to the other's eyes.   
Wow, has he grown into his once-very-thin form. I almost hesitate to   
touch his skin, he's that beautiful.

As I reach to touch the perfection before my eyes, he moves above me. He   
lays his body gently on top of mine. I can see in his eyes that he is   
trying to repay the gentleness with which I breached his young body   
before. Oh, he has learned well. I can't hold back a moan as fire flares   
through the nerves that make contact with his skin. And when his mouth   
again reaches for mine. . .oh, heaven!

Although I have usually been the one in control during sex, even with   
Brian, I have no concerns as I give myself up completely into Arthur's   
hands. 

His kisses start out soft, caring. His hands touch me lightly, making me   
tingle, making me feel aroused and soothed at the same time. 

But soon his hunger rises to the surface. My mouth is plundered by his   
sweetness, my skin electrified by his fire. His hands spread the fire   
everywhere he touches. My shoulders, my nipples, my stomach, all burn   
with the passion he shares with me. I moan his name as my body writhes   
under him, trying to get more of his sweet fire.

"Curt, you are so beautiful. So--" I understand his loss for words as I   
see the adoration in his eyes. He must get sick of trying to find the   
right words, because he puts his mouth to better use. He uses it to   
latch onto the sensitive skin of my throat, making me gasp.

I can barely think as he begins to move his lips lower. My nipples are   
sucked, nipped. Each one receives the care and attention of this   
beautiful creature. I clutch the bedsheets tightly, keeping myself from   
grabbing him and fucking him into oblivion.

It is worth the effort. His lips ghost down my abdomen, making me arch   
just as they reach the very tip of my cock. His tongue reaches out   
slowly and bathes the tip. I begin to see spaceships behind my   
eyelids without the help of any drug at all.

"Arthurrr!" I plead in my mind, take me, take me! But I can't find the   
concentration to force the words out as his hands moves to gently caress   
my balls.

He must reach into my mind and pluck that thought out, because in the   
next instance, his mouth slowly moves to swallow me completely. I can't   
help but arch into that wonderful heat and wetness. But once I realize,   
I pull back, concerned that I'll hurt him.

Arthur grabs for my hand, making me look him in the eye. He smiles that   
gentle, beautiful smile of his. "This is for you, Curt. Whatever you   
want, whatever you need."

I run my thumb across his palm, making him grip my hand tighter. "What   
about you?"

"I get to make you explode with pleasure. That's all I need tonight."   
Ah, my angel. I praise the fates that brought you back to me. And vow   
that tomorrow, I will attend to your needs with the same determination I   
see in your eyes now.

I nod my head slightly, signalling my surrender. I am rewarded by   
his silky tongue bathing my cock in wet heat as his mouth engulfs me   
once again. Then all I can focus on is the bolts of pleasure ripping   
through me as he lets me fuck his mouth.

It isn't very long before I'm screaming his name and shooting down his   
throat. He milks the last few drops out of me, then moves up to wrap me   
up in his arms as he did earlier.

In his arms, I recapture the contentment that he brought me when I   
watched him sleep under the stars.

My wish has come true once again.

\--------------------------------------------------  
(Section V: Make Me Smile at Life)

 

Warmth surrounds me as I wake. For once it isn't to the blare of an   
alarm, demanding I rise up and face the day. Instead, I hear a whisper   
in my ear. "Do you work today?"

"Hmm?" I crawl deeper into the heat of the body surrounding me as my   
mind begins to work. It's morning, so it must be Wednesday now. "No,   
Wednesday and Thursday are my days off because I do the weekend   
editions."

I'm not quite ready to open my eyes yet to look, but I can hear the   
smile in Curt's voice. "Good. I have plans for you."

I crack an eye open at that statement. "What?"

The Wild eyes gleam into mine from under a tangle of blond hair.   
"Anything you want, angel, anything you want."

Something in his look starts my mind in motion. My breath stops for a   
minute as the full importance of all this sinks into my rattled brain.   
Didn't Curt say yesterday that he wanted to get to know me? And his   
statement to Shannon about me being an angel to him. And the way he   
sought to be in my arms last night. . .Curt doesn't want this to end in   
the morning light. I can barely look at him, so stunned by my sudden   
revelation.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Curt's hand runs down my arm, questioningly.

I run my hands through his soft hair. "I want to talk. I want to know   
the real Curt Wild."

Curt chuckles a bit sadly. I see the pain come back into his eyes. "Here   
it is, the day the world finds out its beloved Tommy Stone has died,   
and you want to know about the life of a has-been."

"You are not a has-been. The world still loves you. I still hear your   
music on the radio, I've seen your name in the tabloids--"

"But my life's a mess. I haven't cut an album in years. The only work I   
do now is to help Jack with his music. I just finished my last bout with   
rehab a year ago. And up until six months ago, I still wanted the   
perfect life with fucking Brian Slade." His self-derision is so   
palpatable, I want to take a knife and cut it away from him.

"You are a strong man, Curt Wild. You've made it back this far. Brian's   
death won't drag you down with him." I look him straight in the eye and   
make a decision. This is where I want to be. I can feel this is right,   
the same way I knew fleeing my house was necessary. I know it won't be   
all rooftops. Curt's had a hard life, and has been hardened by it. But   
if this man wants me, he can have me. "I won't let it."

"What do you think you're doing, man?" I can see in his eyes that he   
wants to grab my implied offer, but something holds him back.

"Allowing myself freedom. Something I should have done six months ago."   
I reach for his hand and raise it to my lips. "Take a leap of faith with   
me?"

"Ah, hell, Arthur, I made the jump when I had Jack call you. I just   
never thought you'd want to go with me." Curt nuzzles softly into my   
neck, and relaxes into my arms, trustingly.

I hold him tightly as we drift in and out of sleep for awhile. This   
can't be love, not yet. It's too soon. Or is it?

\---------------------------------------------------

We do get to the talking part, around noon. Our stomachs pulls us out of   
bed and into the bright, sunny kitchen of Curt's apartment. But I see a   
sobering contrast in Curt's eyes as he makes us some sandwiches. A   
darkness ages old.

"You know, some of the stuff they used to say about me back then was   
true." He hands me a sandwich and this verbal offer to share at the same   
time. 

I nod my thanks as I take the sandwich. "Which things?"

"About my brother, the shock treatments. Hell, probably the part about   
me being totally bonkers too." 

"Your world was crazy, Curt. Not you. Can I ask what really happened   
with your family? I mean--" Something tells me there's more to that   
story, stuff that never made it to the tabloids. 

"What, you don't believe the rumors that I'll fuck anything on two   
legs?" I know he's just lashing out at the world, but still, that one   
hurts. He looks me in the eye and must see the flash of pain, because   
his demeanor changes. "Fuck. Sorry, Arthur, that was cruel. That night,   
last night, they meant more to me than--"

He takes a deep breath. "Than Brian ever did. It's just. . .hard to talk   
about, what happened back then. I want to tell you, I-I want to do this   
right. But I don't know how."

He looks like the world just collapsed onto his shoulders right now as   
he takes a bite of his lunch. I have to ease his tension somehow.

"Did I tell you that you were the reason I left home?" Maybe giving him   
some of my anguish will ease some of his own. . .or at least tell him   
he's not alone.

"Huh? No." He peaks out from under his hair.

I lean my elbows on the kitchen table for support. I can't believe how   
much this still hurts, even after so long. "Yeah. My da, he caught me   
wanking off to the photo of you and Brian kissing that was in the   
tabloid. He yelled, told me it was a sin. But-but it is who I am. I   
couldn't just ignore that part of me. So I left."

Curt gets up as I'm talking to stand behind me. His arms enfold me,   
making each word just a little easier to say. When I'm finished, I look   
up at him. His gentle smile contrasts heavily with his words. "Yeah. I   
know what you felt. When I got released from the psycho ward, I left   
Michigan. Didn't look back. I told myself that if they don't want the   
person I am, I don't want them either."

I wrap my hands around his arms, not knowing what to say. We stay that   
way for a few minutes, just drawing comfort from each other.

Curt leans his head against mine. "Jack called me earlier, when you were   
sleeping. He told me to lay low today. The press is in a frenzy. He also   
talked to your boss. Lou, right?" I nod, almost dislodging him. "Lou   
wants you to stay outta sight too. He's worried you'll take flack about   
after Brian's last concert."

Curt turns me a bit to face him. "What did you do?"

I snicker. Suddenly the whole thing is hilarious. "I asked him if he was   
Brian Slade."

Curt let's out a gasping laugh. "You always did have nerve. That was   
you, huh? Reynolds' goons came after me about that. They thought I   
planted someone there to do that."

I give him a worried look. "I didn't mean for you--"

"Shh. It's ok. Nobody hurt me. Anyway, I owed you one after having to   
chase you off when you called me before the concert. Reynolds was using   
Brian as, I dunno, his mascot. You didn't say anything nasty about Tommy   
Stone. Nothing about his past. Tommy Stone is Mr. Wholesome. Fuck, they   
had to do more covering up for him than they did about the existence of   
the atom bomb. Reynolds found out you were doing the interviews somehow.   
His bullies were right in front of me when you called. I dunno how, but   
I knew it was you, my freedom-giver. I wanted to protect you, but I   
couldn't. So I tried to chase you away."

Curt takes my arm, pulling me up out of the chair. "I'm glad I didn't   
scare you away much, though. If you wouldn't have come yesterday--Hell,   
it would've been a lot uglier. I owe you."

"Curt, you don't owe me anything. I wanted to be here. Anything to make   
it easier on you." I take his hand in mine and squeeze gently.

"Then let me take care of you. We don't have any place to be, nothing to   
do. Let me forget about this whole thing outside for awhile. I want to   
see that startled look in your eyes again." He pulls me back into the   
bedroom.

Once again I leave harsh reality behind and give into my sense of wonder   
concerning Curt Wild.

\---------------------------------------------------

I lay on my back, naked on Curt's big bed. My dream-lover-turned-real   
leans over me as he kisses every inch of my skin. My moans seem to   
motivate him, to make him seek out each and every pleasure point on my   
body.

"Yeah, that's it. Let go. Let it all out. Fuck, you're so beautiful like   
this." His hands replace his tongue on my skin as he speaks. The change   
doesn't lessen the electricity running through me one ion. 

He gets the startled look he wanted to see at his next words. "Can I   
take you in me?"

I open my eyes and stare at him, trembling from both want and fear.   
"I've never done that."

"Do you want to?" Curt moves to cover me, then breathes into my ear,   
making me shiver.

"I don't want to hurt you." I bury my face in his hair, trying to hold   
myself in check. To hurt Curt would be unthinkable.

"You won't. Let me." At my nod, Curt straddles my thighs and sits up. I   
watch, fascinated, as he grabs the lube and a condom from the nightstand   
and prepares my erection with them. "I haven't trusted anyone to do this   
in so long. Not since, well you know. But to be able to give *you* this-  
-I've just redefined my freedom. Freedom is being able to fly with you."

With that he moves and slowly guides me into him. "Oh, God!" The   
feelings are exquisite, the look in his eyes as they lock with mine,   
mind-blowing. My heart jumps out of my chest as he takes all of me.

"My angel. My freedom-giver. What was I thinking this past decade? How   
could I not want this, want you?" Curt bends down to kiss me, taking my   
mouth with as much care as he's taken my body. "I think I've fallen,   
man."

I don't pretend to not know what he's talking about. Instead, I give him   
an honest reply. "Me, too."

My words spur him into a slow rhythm. Up and down, an inch at a time. We   
gasp in unison as the pleasure rushes within us both. I clutch his arms,   
trying not to drown too soon.

But he'll have none of my control. "Let go, Arthur, let go. Fly with   
me." Curt speeds up his movements, pushing me towards that light,   
faster, faster.

"CURT!" That one syllable gets stretched into three as my climax engulfs   
me. Vaguely, I feel his semen hit me as I relax into the bed. But I'm   
too exhausted to open my eyes and see.

He lays on my chest a few minutes, catching his breath, I guess. When he   
moves away, I protest, trying to hold him to me.

"Shh, angel. I just want to clean us up a bit." I hear his footsteps on   
the tile of the bathroom after I let him go. A few minutes later, I feel   
a warm washcloth trace a wet path over my abdomen.

When he finishes, he climbs back into bed. I open my eyes only long   
enough to find him and snuggle into his arms. As I drift, one word   
surfaces in my mind.

"Love."

I hear his reply as he pulls me tighter against his strong body. 

"Yeah, me too, angel. Me, too."

\--------------------------------------------------  
(Section VI: The Whole She-Devil)

The day of Brian's funeral is cloudy and cold. Strangely enough, it   
matches the mood of the American people to this fallen idol. The news   
got out. And fuck, not even Arthur knew the worst of what Brian was   
hiding.

\----------------------------------------------------

We wake up about four o'clock that second day, again because our   
stomachs are rumbling. As soon as I switch on the kitchen light, there's   
a knock on the door.

I open it to find Jack looking like he saw a ghost. "Darling, I knew   
that you two couldn't have possibly seen the news today, so I waited   
until you were up. You both need to see this."

He walks toward the kitchen with a newspaper under his arm. "Come, you   
need to sit down before I show you this."

"Hi." Arthur looks up from the pot he's pouring soup into to greet Jack.

"Darling, don't turn that on yet. It might burn after you see what I   
have to show you. Sit." Jack waves Arthur over to the chair across from   
me and lays the paper on the table.

The headline blares "Dead Singer was President Reynold's Gay Lover!"   
and below it "Stone actually 70's pop star Brian Slade!" I look at the   
top of the paper. The New York Herald. God.

I look up at Arthur, who looks at me and shakes his head. "After the   
incident after the concert, I let it go. I didn't want to get fired over   
it."

He opens the paper. "Lou wrote the article. It says something here about   
a video tape?" He looks up at Jack quizzically.

"Yes, it's been all over the news. Tommy's housekeeper found it inside   
the cover of the movie Tommy had loaned her the night before he shot   
himself. He must have mixed up the covers of the real movie and his sex   
tapes. Reynolds was on the one inside the cover. The identity thing,   
well nobody seems to know who discovered Tommy's other identity. Maybe   
your boss is covering for you?"

"Maybe. Lou is a good man." Arthur reaches out a hand to grab mine. 

I squeeze it gently. "The country must be in an uproar."

"Oh, yes. It is quite a mess." Jack scrutinizes us. "Hold onto each   
other tight, mes amis. It's going to be quite a rollercoaster."

\---------------------------------------------------

It was. Reporters chased me, Mandy, Jack, and everyone else Brian   
ever met. Arthur wasn't ready to be thrust into the middle of this,   
because of his job. I could tell the job meant the world to him, and I   
didn't want to see him lose it over this. So I bullied him into going   
back to his apartment until Saturday morning. The day of the funeral.

A knock on the door breaks me out of my thoughts as I get dressed. I   
open it to find my lover in a black suit. Wilde's pin is fastened to his   
lapel. "Hi."

Instead of responding verbally, I kiss him lightly. I then bury my head   
in his shoulder. "I don't want to do this, Arthur."

"I know, love. Neither do I." I feel his hands lightly stroke my hair.   
"But we need to do this."

"Yeah." I pull him into the apartment and shut the door. Shrugging into   
my black sportscoat, I look around for the rubber band to tie back my   
hair. Arthur walks behind me and then brings his hand in front of me,   
palm open. In it, I find my rubber band, and Wilde's pin.

"It's a copy. I know a jeweller in Manhattan." 

I turn around to look him straight in the eye. "Why?"

"It-it bound us together somehow. Made that final connection neither of   
us knew how to make in the bar that night." At that, I take the pin from   
him and fasten it to my jacket. Yes, my angel, I want us to be in this   
together.

I take his hand in mine and prepare to come face to face with my past.

\---------------------------------------------------

Somehow, Shannon was able to keep the press away from the viewing. We   
walk into the funeral parlor to see mostly strangers. Tommy left all of   
us behind when he assumed his new identity. I wonder how many of these   
people knew the real man. I know I didn't.

I spot Mandy across the room, and with a quick glance at Arthur, I make   
a beeline for her. 

"How are you, hon?" I kiss her forehead lightly, trying to calm her   
sobbing a little.

Once I left Brian, and was no longer the problem between him and Mandy,   
it was easy for me to become friends with her. At first, we needed each   
other's support. Brian's denial of us hurt us both like hell. Then we   
found we just liked each other. We've often helped one another get gigs   
over the years.

"I can't believe how much it hurts, Curt. After all he's done--" She   
leans into my shoulder. I just hold her. What else can I do?

I avoid looking at the casket in the front of the room. I know it's   
closed. Brian's face was no more after he bit the bullet. But I don't   
want to face it yet.

I do look around the rest of the room. I recognize some political   
types, some who appear to be loyal fans, despite the news. His second   
wife, a small and unassuming woman sits in the corner, staring into   
space. 

I finally spot my lover. He's standing with Jack, and it looks like he's   
talking with--is that Shannon?

"Isn't that that reporter from the Herald? I thought Shannon wasn't   
letting press in here." Mandy looks up at me, her eyes still shining   
with tears.

"He came with me. He's not here for a story."

"Oh? I didn't know you had a new lover."

I smile at her gently. "Do you remember when you found me at the Death   
of Glitter?"

"Yes, why?"

"He was the boy staring at us. He was a roadie for the Flaming Creatures   
at the time. I--well I spent the night with him after I left the party.   
After Brian's last concert, I saw him again. I had Jack find him when I   
found out about--. Arthur has a good heart. He's been an angel."

Mandy gives me a genuine smile. "He seemed kind when I talked with him.   
Also sad, somehow."

"We all are, hon. It hasn't been an easy life living under the shadow of   
Brian Slade."

Just then Shannon's voice carries to my ear. "You're warping his mind,   
you money hungry weasel! He needs me."

She's at it again, the bitch.

\---------------------------------------------------  
(A couple days earlier)

Jack answers the doorbell that that wakes me out of my sleep. I look   
next to me and find Arthur still sleeping. God, I must've worn the kid   
out with all my emotional shit.

I carefully wrap my arms around him. There, that feels better. His mere   
presence soothes my heart.

I look up as Jack comes over to us and whispers. "Curt, Shannon would   
like to talk with you. I know you don't want to talk to her, but she-  
she's holding something over my head. She threatened to use it against   
me if I didn't let her in."

I close my eyes and nod. Jack's life has been far from exemplary, even   
though he's probably the cleanest of all of us, with the possible   
exception of the man in my arms. I don't want to be the cause of Jack's   
pain.

I don't bother to get up as Shannon approaches. "What do you want?"

"I know Brian's lawyer called you. I wanted to get on board, to give you   
my support in this most trying time." I see right behind that smile of   
hers. She wants to start grooming me. She wants her next Ken doll.

Well, she ain't gonna be playing with me. "I do not want you anywhere   
near me or my work. Find someone else to be your cardboard idol."

"Curt, you could see the world. Your music could rise again. And you   
could have whatever or whoever you want--"

I have what I want, you cunt. It's right here in my arms. I don't need   
you or your games.

The anger in me rises, making me temporarily forget that Arthur's   
sleeping. I scream at her.

"Get outta my house, you fucking bitch!"

\---------------------------------------------------

A high-class pimp, that's what Shannon has become. I hug Mandy one last   
time and walk over to my lover. I can see that his conversation with   
Shannon is making him agitated. I prepare to rescue him, but the sound   
of his voice makes me stop.

"Only Curt can tell me to leave him. You cannot speak for him. If he   
wants to go with you, I won't hold him back. But I think you're mistaken   
about his intentions." Oh, so polite, my angel, but I can hear the   
strain in your voice. Your accent, the Scottish, Irish, Welsh, whatever   
it is, it gets heavier when you're upset.

Shannon, however, doesn't hold up as well. "You're sticking ideas in his   
head about me. That-that I made him go with Reynolds. That I made him   
hide his past."

Oh, so it was all her. I should've known. Brian needed to be guided in   
everything. I guess, even to the point of choosing his sugar-daddy.

Arthur spots me behind Shannon's back and smiles. "It doesn't matter   
what you did or didn't do. Curt will make it with or without you."

"But not without you, my love. I want you by my side always." I can see   
Jack pulling Shannon away out of the corner of my eye as I move into   
Arthur's arms.

In that instance, I know I have everything I could possibly ever want.   
It makes it so much easier to look at the coffin in the front of the   
room. "Goodbye, Brian."

\---------------------------------------------------

Many more people have come to witness the goings-on at the cemetary.   
Bulbs flash and reporters bug us as we walk to the place where Brian is   
to rest. I don't look at anyone, or speak. I bury my head in Arthur's arm   
much like I did to Brian ten years ago.

The difference is so profound, though. Arthur's other arm goes around me   
immediately, protecting me. 

Shannon tries to walk next to us, but Jack also gets protective, and   
pulls her away. I decide that later today, I'm going to have a talk with   
*my* lawyer, and get her off my back once and for all.

When we're all settled, the minister begins the service. It's short, I   
know, but I barely hear any of it. All I can do is lean on Arthur's   
shoulder and stare at the box about to be lowered into the ground.

So much has changed in so little time. My heart is full, instead of   
anguished as it was when I first heard of Brian's death. My career,   
although not fixed, has a new start. I've begun writing songs again.   
Arthur is the subject of most of them, of course. And I have the   
security I never had around Brian. Arthur's been with me for ten years,   
in both our hearts and minds, even without being in each other's   
presence. If he can suffer through that, well, he's not going anywhere   
anytime soon.

The minister hands out flowers to be placed on the coffin, to say our   
last goodbyes. When I'm given mine, I take out the golden scarf I had   
placed in my inside jacket pocket. Brian had worn it during the Media   
Circus. I had kept it as a memory of a happier time, but now I no longer   
need it.

I wrap the red carnation in the scarf and place it on the coffin. "I   
don't know if you're the one who gave me this second chance, Brian. If   
you are, thanks."

Then I take Arthur's hand, and begin my walk into the future.

\---------------------------------------------------  
(Section VII: If You Will Be My Heart, I Will Do Anything)

(One year later)

I'm still not entirely comfortable in the shiny blue suit Curt wants   
me to wear. I know it looks good on me, but I'm not used to being the   
center of attention.

Why did I want to do this again? 

I sit down on our bed and stare at the green pin in my hand. Because I   
love him with all my heart, that's why. And I want everyone to know it.

This past year hasn't been easy for either of us, but it's been   
fruitful. Curt cut a new album, which quickly rose the charts until it   
reached the top fifteen. I loved that he was working and happy,   
and that Jack was watching over him. But I resented the album for months. It   
took him away from me for an extended period of time. At a time where I   
still wanted him all to myself.

As for me, after struggling with Lou to keep my private life private, I   
was promoted within the Herald to Assistant Entertainment Editor. The   
thing I liked most about the promotion was that it kept me distracted   
while Curt was away. But now, I'm starting to really settle in. It's fun   
and the people below me are good and hardworking.

The most painful part of the last year has been dealing with the public   
outcry concerning Brian's affair with President Reynolds. And dealing   
with the stunt Shannon tried to pull on us.

The revelation of Reynolds' personal life made it easier for the papers   
to report what the journalists had been seeing from the beginning of his   
term. That his domestic policies were not helping this nation, they were   
hurting it. Brian and his enthusiastic support of his lover were   
actually a way of covering up the man's dismal failures. Of course,   
Reynolds' brute squad also helped. But the harsh light of truth finally   
found him. He resigned last month, after much debate. I can see already   
that the new president, the former vice-president, has no intention of   
continuing Reynolds' policies. He hid in the man's shadow long enough.

The political scandal put Shannon in a bad light, being Brian's manager.   
That, combined with Curt's lawyer threatening her with harrassment   
after her repeated attempts to become his manager, made her get ugly.

She had someone sneak into Curt's apartment while I was there. The   
pictures the man took were explicit. There was no mistaking what kind of   
relationship I have with Curt.

She sent copies to every newspaper she could think of, excluding the   
Herald. I think she knew Lou would protect me. He did. My job was never   
even remotely in jeopardy.

Curt and I, figuring it wouldn't do us any good to try to hide, sat down   
at a press conference and came clean. About our relationship, about our   
connections with Brian. The hate mail hurt, but it stopped around the   
time Curt's album hit the top of the charts. I guess it's hard to hate   
someone who sings as well as my love. We sued Shannon and won. I don't   
know what she's doing now, but I know it can't be too good. She ruined   
her own reputation.

A knock on the bedroom door brings me out of my thoughts. "Arthur, are   
you ready? It's almost time to leave." Mandy hesitantly opens the door. 

I smile at her and nod as I place the pin on my lapel. "Sorry, I was   
wool-gathering."

She smiles back at me. "Yeah, me too. This whole thing brings back a lot   
of memories." She takes my hand. "Come on, we'd better hurry or we'll be   
late."

We quickly shut the apartment and leave. I don't want to be late to my   
own wedding.

\---------------------------------------------------

We get to Jack's sprawling Westchester house in record time. By the time   
we get there, however, I'm anxious to just get this over with. I haven't   
seen my lover in two days. We both wanted time to ourselves before we   
made this commitment.

It might not mean much to the law, but that doesn't make it any less   
meaningful to our hearts.

Jack greets us and ushers us into the living room. "All the guests are   
already in the ballroom, darling. Take a deep breath. Are you ready?"

I nod. I don't try to say anything, I know my voice would crack if I   
tried. 

Jack seems to understand, as he just guides me to the ballroom.

Inside the room, chairs are set up in a circle around a center dais. All   
of them are filled with friends, collegues. Jack somehow even found the   
Flaming Creatures. Malcolm smiles at me as I enter.

After that, all I can see is the man standing on the dais, waiting for   
me. Curt's gold lame suit is similar to the one he wore eleven years   
ago, but more dignified. To match the dignity he has gained. But even   
so, he looks smashingly beautiful in it.

Curt reaches out to me, giving me the courage to walk onto the dais. As   
he takes my hand in his, the Circus begins.

"Curt Wild, why are you bringing us here today?" This from Jack.

"To declare before all the world my love for the man in front of me,   
Arthur Stuart."

From Mandy. "How do you know your love is real?"

Curt stares me straight in the eye. "It permeates my life and my being.   
Everything I am, everything I do, is somehow influenced by my love for   
this man. I am a better man because he believes in me."

Tears spring to my eyes as I clutch his hand. Oh, my love. But I wait to   
respond verbally. Due to my shyness in the limelight, my part in this is   
short. But hopefully, no less meaningful because of it.

"Do you promise to stay at this man's side, no matter what happens?" My   
friend Tabitha, from the Herald.

Curt kisses my hand. "I promise, with all my being, that what I have is   
his forever. My heart, my soul, my life."

The love of my life nods to me minutely. My turn. This time, the room is   
silent, waiting for me to say the words written on my heart.

I hold his face in my hands and look him straight in the eye.

"My world has changed because your heart is made of warmth and love. The   
words from your lips write our future. I love you, Curt Wild. Now and   
always."

Our lips meet slowly for a luxuriant kiss. Although I am no   
photographer, I know it is as picture-worthy as the one   
that made me leave home so long ago.

I can only hope if that any seventeen year old boy would see it, he   
believes not only in the glamour of it, but the love behind it.

For all that glitters in my life is Wild.

\----------------------------------------------------


End file.
